I've a got a teensy, little problem. I buy TOO many coffee mugs. Well, actually, its just the right number by me. But my husband cries everytime he opens the cabinet and looks for his one favorite Utah mug he found at Walmart in the souvenier aisle. (He's so demitasse challenged.)
In fact, Fred has made a new rule. If I bring a new one home, I must give an old one away. Very, very, sad. Especially considering that every time I walk into a local coffee shop, every cup on the shelf starts singing The Coffee Song. If that wasn't bad enough, now there are several local vendors who show up at our downtown farmers market with tempting little vessels. Like the one above. I love the honey and brown tones, and the white fingertips where the potter held onto the cup while dipping it in the glaze. Loverly.
Or this one, with glazed petraglyphs, dripping black and tan.
Reminds me of my coffee as I love just a touch of golden honey and milk.
I found these little beauties at YOU KNOW WHERE. No handles but shaped with nice little finger indentations. These are still currently available BTW.
I like the ridges left behind on this one by the sculptor. I just can't get enough of that brown glaze.
Isn't this as beautiful as a Robin's egg? Or maybe a blue Snowy Plover egg. Snowy Plover's nest near the Great Salt Lake, you know.
I snatched up the last three of these from my farmers market favorite. I BEGGED him to recreate this in dinner dishes. No dice. Each of these cups is a slightly different size. You can so tell they are hand thrown.
And I've figured out a way to derail by husband in his sinister plot to rid me of my 37,000 coffee mugs. I will take them to a secret location where I can see them every day, touch their silky handles and sip liquid gold from their rims.
They can always use more mugs at the office.